I'll Be Fine
by brighteyesindarktimes
Summary: "I don't see why mummy bothers in hiring new tutors; they are all so incredibly dull and stupid." This wouldn't be the first time one has run out red-faced and cursing. "Damn the money", they say. It's not my fault they're useless.
1. Chapter 1

"I don't see why mummy bothers in hiring new tutors; they are all so incredibly dull and stupid."

This wouldn't be the first time one has run out red-faced and cursing. "Damn the money", they say. It's not my fault they're useless.

Mycroft huffs out in annoyance, prim and proper in his new suit. Trying to impress father? _Prat_. I sigh heavily. _Bored_. Pushing back from the table, I stand and button my jacket, hands brushing off invisible dust. "Well I'm off now. No point in staying. Afternoon Mycroft."

"And where do you think you're going?"

"Out."

"Mummy won't be pleased."

I look over my shoulder, smirking, "When is she ever?"

/

It's well past midnight now and I'm still wandering in the woods by the manor. Interesting things out here.

Mycroft disapproves.

Which makes this so much more fun.

No doubt Mummy will have a new tutor tomorrow. I don't see why, they never last. What makes the next one any more different? They all end up hating me. It's not my fault I can see that their husband is cheating on them or they have been stealing from us. I can't shut it off.

I. Can't. Stop. Thinking.

I reach into my pocket and pull out a cigarette. Lighting it, I watch the burning flakes drift off before I take a deep drag. Should head back now, experiment almost ready. Blowing out the smoke, I watch it melt away in the air. Ugh, low tar, bloody Mycroft. Hmm, I'm roughly 20 minutes away from the grounds. Surprising that he hasn't sent out Aiden to fetch me back.

I turn on my heel, dragging in another lungful of chemicals. Humming to myself, I flick off the ashes from the end. Burned and dark gray. Black. I can see the manor from the edge of the woods and father's light is on. Fuck. The fire licks at my fingers, cigarette forgotten. Oh fuck, fuck. Ouch. I drop it to the ground and smother it out. He wasn't to be home until Saturday. I swear if Mycroft told him about today.

No, that's not enough to bring him back home.

_Oh. _

So maybe I have taken it a bit far with the tutors. But really mummy, telling father? Most really be desperate for me to "behave".

/

Walking inside, I head to the stairs leading down to the basement. A shadow falls over the floor.

Damn it.

I straighten up, fingers twitching. "Hello father, you're home early. Special reason?"

"Sherlock, why don't you come into my office for just a moment?"

"I'd rather not father," I yawn loudly and rub the back of my head, wincing at the feel of my burned fingers rubbing against my hair, "I'm tired you see, have a big day ahead of me tomorrow."

"Now, Sherlock"

I click my heels together and mock salute, "Yes sir!"

I'm going to regret that later. Somehow.

/

"Your mother tells me that you have run out 10 different tutors this month alone."

"I'm sure she did. What else did she tell you?"

"Don't talk back to me Sherlock. Now tomorrow you will have a new tutor and you will behave. Do you understand me?"

"Loud and clear, sir."

I ignore him after that. New mistress, much younger, by 10 years? Only staying for the night and will be gone before dawn. Of course.

"How did you meet this one?"

He falters midsentence, "I'm sorry?"

"Oh you heard me. The new woman, how did you meet this one?" I scratch lazily at my arm. "That's the only thing I can't get, so tell me. I'm sure it was an enthralling tale."

"I don't know what you are talking about but I think we are done here. You may go now."

Brilliant. I stretch out, yawning loudly. "Well it was lovely talking to you father, hope to see you soon. Mycroft will be pleased you come home." I bow slightly and walk out, smirking at the look of outrage on his face. Oh am I going to pay for this but it's incredibly fun teasing him like this. Most fun I've had all day.

/

I run the hot water as I strip off my clothes. Once it's filled, I step in and slide down, submerging myself. I open my eyes and stare through the watery haze to the ceiling.

There is still some of the mold I tried growing two months ago.

/

BORING.

Bored.

God, how do people live like this?

/

Mummy and Father are at it again.

/

"Take some control over your bloody son!"

"He's your son to you know! I'm not the one who went off with that trollop years ago and Sherlock somehow just knew! It's your fault he's like this."

"Oh don't give me that rubbish. This marriage was ruined long before he opened his mouth to you."

/

I wonder how long until I can get my hands on some Hydrofluoric Acid.

Ah.

Delete.

/

Approximately 4 hours until daybreak.

Father will be gone is 3.

/

He has left.

A hour early this time.

/

Mummy is crying.

/

I'm sorry.

/

Delete.


	2. Chapter 2

I head into the kitchen and grab an apple. Not hungry.

Ah, yes new tutor today. Let's see how much better this one will be. I snort. Not likely they will be.

"Get dressed Sherlock; mummy said the new tutor will be here in a few hours."

"Yes, of course. Must look our best us Holmes. We do have a reputation to uphold afterall." I lean against the counter and take a bite, watching Mycroft head for the juice. "You've gained 5 pounds brother dear. You really should cut back on the sweets."

"And you've been smoking again."

"Yes, low tar. Thank you for that."  
I receive no reply.

/

Two more hours until the new tutor. Are they always going to be this late?

/

Hm, I should dress now.  
Maybe.

/

Mummy had someone put out a new suit for me.

I ignore it and go for a purple shirt that's at the back of my wardrobe. It hangs off my body.

Mummy will hate it.

/

One more hour.

I wonder if any Psilocybin mushrooms are growing in the woods. Research needs to be done then.

/

I see a car driving up to the gate. Perfect, Mycroft is already out waiting. No need for me to rush then.

I head for the stairs and walk down slowly. Taking my time, might as well make an impression. Muffled voices carry through and Mycroft's umbrella tip clacks against the tile floor.

I hate that stupid umbrella.

/

I'm sitting in the chair, staring out the window when I hear another man's voice replying to Mycroft. Hm, a man this time? Not much older than me, maybe by two, no, three years?

"Well I'll leave you to it then. If he causes any trouble don't be afraid to call out."

I need to hear his voice to get a proper hold on him.

"I'm sure it will be no problem Mr. Holmes. I can handle myself."

His voice is surprisingly soft, but with an underlying tone. What is it…

Mycroft walks away and the new tutor shifts nervously behind me. New to this? Hmm.

"You can sit you know."

He chuckles, "Right. You must be Sherlock." I can see him moving from the corner of my eye and he settles in beside me. "I'm John Watson, your new tutor."

/

He is not what I expected.

/

Blond hair, cut short. Black cardigan with a simple white shirt and new jeans, just bought.

He smiles at me. White, straight teeth flash.

"Now you don't exactly look like you need a tutor. How old are you 17?"

"16 actually, but 17 in a few months."

He opens his mouth to continue but I interrupt.

"You're 19; obviously paying for Uni by odd jobs going by how you recently worked at a local pub. Well by local, I mean for you. You have an older sibling, brother? No, sister. You currently live by yourself but visit home almost every day. "

I watch his face, sitting back in my chair, waiting for an outraged face, an outburst, something.

"That was brilliant. How do you know all of that!?"

Definitely not what I expected.


	3. Chapter 3

I stare blankly at him; train of thought frozen just for a second before I ramble on with my deductions.

/

"Well it was fairly easy. Even an idiot would notice."

He smiles at me.

Smiles.

John Watson, you are a strange man.

/

"I do have a question to ask. Why did my father hire you? Obviously you aren't very qualified to be a proper tutor."

"What do you mean by that?" He tone is teasing.

At least, I think it is.

I wave my hand over his sitting form in the chair. "Well you don't exactly look the part of a tutor know do you? Even more so by my father's standards."

He's still smiling. Why?

"Thanks for that mate." He sits back and fiddles with the hem of his shirt. "But you're right. I'm not cut out to be a tutor. I mean, listen to you! You don't need me here." He sighs, "Your father thought that having a tutor closer to your age would be good for you. I need to money so I didn't turn him down. But I can go with you don't need me. "He looks at me, smiling softly, "Obviously you don't need me."

I don't want him to go yet.

"Do you want to help me find mushrooms in the woods?"

/

"I don't mind not having to teach you anything, but can you tell me why in the hell I am tracking through mud in the woods looking for bloody mushrooms?"

"Really John, don't you pay attention at all? I want to study the effects they have on the decay of flesh." I kick over a rock and bend down; I can practically feel John's heat from his body behind me.

"Flesh, like human flesh?"

I straighten up and stare into his eyes, "Is there something wrong with that?"

"Uh, not really I guess, but how did you get human flesh?"

"I required it from myself, now look over there will you."

He laughs, deep and rumbling like I told the funniest joke he has ever heard.

"Yeah, sure, you nutter."

My stomach flutters.

Am I getting sick?

/


	4. Chapter 4

"So, John Watson then?"

"I have no idea what you mean." I keep my back to Mycroft.

It's been 3 weeks since John has become my _tutor,_ the longest since when I was a child. Obviously Mycroft would notice.

"Don't be a child Sherlock. It has been quite a while now with John, you haven't run him off yet I see. Why is that?"

"It's none of your business, go start a war or something Mycroft. Just leave me alone."

"I'm just looking out for what is best for my little brother. Don't want you getting hurt."

As he walks away, I mutter under my breath, "Why don't you shove it up your arse…"

He chuckles.

The bastard.

/

This weekend is exceptionally boring.

Is it Saturday or Sunday, I forgot.

Ah, it's Sunday. The fungus has reached optimal levels for testing now. Brilliant.

So tomorrow is Monday.

Monday means John.

John.

/

There is a knock on my door, followed by my mother pushing her way in.

"If I am not mistaken, the point of knocking is to allow me to let you in or not. Not to just barge in after two bloody seconds."

"I am you mother, that rule doesn't apply to me."

I groan into my pillow, "Fantastic. Now get out, I'm awake."

She completely ignores me, rummaging through my drawers. "Now that young man that tutors you, if you can call it that…"

"John, his name is John," I cut in.

"Yes, well he will be here later than normal. Very unprofessional if you ask me."

"No one asked you."

She continues on, "So in the mean time you will clean up this place you call a room and throw out all the disgusting… things, which are festering in the corner over there."

"Yes, yes. Now get out."

"And I expect you to be washed and presentable for when that young man arrives, Sherlock. I won't have you running about like a lost boy."

"When am I ever not Mummy?"

/


	5. Chapter 5

Ugh, I smell like Mycroft. Of course Mummy would prefer his soap over mine. I pull out a cigarette and light it.

Off in the distance I see a cab driving along. Taking a long drag, I tilt my head back. Blowing dark smoke around my head.

A car door slams, gravel crunches beneath size 10 shoes. I take another drag.

"Have you been waiting here the entire time?"

I release the burning smoke and straighten up, pushing off the wall.

"Really John, you expect me to be waiting for you for three hours out here?"

"Oh, you wound me with your words Sherlock Holmes." A flash of white, followed with a laugh.

My stomach clenches.

When was the last time I ate?

Yesterday, Mycroft was being particularly annoying. So I'm not hungry then..

"Oi, Sherlock, have you listened to a word I've said?"

"Boring."

"I'll give you boring, you arse."

I smirk, "Is that some sort of threat, should I be scared?"

"Oh shut up."

"Come John, we have things to do," I take one last drag from the cigarette before I flick it to the ground, smothering it with my shoe.

I turn away from the house grounds and begin to walk along the road.

"Uh, Sherlock.."

"Sherlock?!"

John mutters, "Ugh, you git," before he runs the short distance to reach me.

"Are you going to tell me where we are going or are you going to continue to walk along in silence?"

"We, John, are walking to town. I thought it was obvious. I was wrong."

"I was just in town Sherlock, you could have just told me to stay and wait for you there! But instead of that, I get a cab and make me waste money, which I can't afford to spend like nothing mind you, to come out here. Just to go back!"

"Well, see John, there lays a little problem in all of that."

"And what would that be Mister Genius?"

"I don't have your phone number."

"Oh. Right, of course you don't. Sorry…"

"Mmm."

/

"Hand me your phone."

Confused, I turn my head to face him while still walking, "What ever for? You have your own phone to use."

"Yes, I do. Now hand me your phone. Do you want my phone number or not?"

"Oh."

I reach into my pocket and pull out my sleek, black phone. Extending my arm, I dangle it between my thumb and finger.

Suddenly warm fingers curl around my wrist.

"What in the world are you doing?"

"Are you stupid, this phone must have cost a lot of money Sherlock! You don't just fling it around like it's nothing!"

I shrug, "I was hardly flinging it John. This isn't my first phone either. I accidently spilled acid on my last one. Mummy was livid that it ate away to the table."

"Oh god, I forgot who I was talking to."

"Just take the stupid phone John."

He mutters nonsense under his breath.

He does this a lot. Is there a correlation as to what causes it and the words that he produces?

"Here, now you have my number."

"Yes thank you," I grab it back and dump it into my pocket, "Now you will be the first I call if someone were to try and murder me in my room."

"I better be."

/

Ten minutes before we reach town I look over before I quickly look away.

But not quickly enough for the image of John, head tilted back. Sun catching his hair, a soft golden shine. Eyes closed, with a wide smile spread on his face.

Damn it.

/


	6. Chapter 6

"Are you hungry, John?"

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

I sigh, as if put off, "Hungry John. Are you hungry? You know, food in your stomach, indulging on ridiculously disgusting… things."

"Just because I tried pig's feet _one_ time does not mean all food is disgusting."

"Debatable."

"But to answer your question, you git, yes I am. Starving."

"I know of this lovely little Chinese place down the way…"

"Brilliant then, lead the way."

He flashes a quick smile in my direction.

/

"So, how do you know the lady that owns the place? Can't imagine she gives out free food to every lanky teenaged boy that comes in this place."

"I managed to prove that one of her workers had been sleeping with her already married daughter," I flip my hand around as I lean back; "Apparently I showed signs of great honour."

"But really…"

I smirk, "Really, I was just bored."

John chuckles, eyes cast down.

/

"My god, this food is actually really good!"

"Do have some faith in me John. Besides, you can always tell how good a place is by the bottom of the handle."

"Now you're just pulling my leg."

I just smile before I steal a dumpling off of his plate, popping it into my mouth.

/

"Do you have to be home soon?"

I look over from watching the family eating ice cream at the table behind John. Marital problems, trying to work things out, husband cheated with the neighbor's daughter. Dull. A warm breeze blows by, strands of golden hair comes loose, hanging over his eyes.

Why in the world did John insist on sitting out?

"Are you going to answer me anytime soon or are you just going to continue to stare behind me?"

"To answer your first question, no I do not."

"Okay, good."

I raise my eyebrow. John's cheeks flush lightly.

"I, uh, don't mean good! Well no, I do, just uh… I… never mind…"

"Just spit it out John."

"I just. Enjoy spending time with you is all…"

I stare intently, searching his face, before I give a nod and turn away.

"And I you, John."

/


	7. Chapter 7

_AN: A little drunk texting. My John in this chapter is my lovely friend, Alex. Who is a saint for putting up with me. _

* * *

_John, you are training to be a medical man, tell me how long alcohol affects the system.-SH_

_Quickly. –SH_

** It varies. Depends on your BAC.**

** Why? What's wrong?**

_Interesting. -SH_

_Nothing. Yet. No need to worry yourself. –SH_

**Are you drinking?**

_ Possibly. -SH_

_It's an experiment. –SH_

** I don't know whether to be amused or worried**

_I would say neither, unless the thought of me almost throwing up on Mycroft's shoes happens to be. -SH_

_Nasty stuff, John. –SH_

**The thought of you drunk texting and throwing up on Mycroft's posh suit has me giggling**

_ Oh don't be childish. You are 19. Don't giggle at me. -SH_

_ And it's hardly drunk texting. I am completely in my right state of mind. –SH_

** Mmm and getting smashed because you're bored is very mature**

_The height of maturity John. Do catch up. -SH_

_Being bored is boring. –SH_

**Well yes, I'd think so.**

_Entertain me, John. No good murders lately. Dull. –SH_

** I'm not your personal man-servant, Sherlock**

_Yes you are. –SH_

_Well, you might as well be. -SH_

_Why... never mind. It is not of import. –SH_

**Right. So. What kind of experiment involves you getting hammered, or is this just out of pure boredom?**

_You never know when it may come in handy John. Do think. –SH_

** You're a pretty good actor already though, from what I've seen**

_That's barely the surface, my friend. -SH_

_Friend.. -SH_

_Are we friends John? –SH_

**Friends go out for ice cream and friends drunk text each other, so I suppose we are. Yes.**

_Good.. yes that's.. okay. –SH_

**What are you drinking?**

_This awful 'Carling' I found in my father's cabinet. Truly awful stuff. –SH_

**Hm. Would've thought you'd go for something less... pub-ish?**

**And I'm sure your father will be pleased with you going through his things**

_Ha. -SH_

_I hardly care what my father thinks. –SH_

**You seem pretty aloof towards him**

**Is that something you'd want to talk about? I mean...**

**You don't have to, obviously.**

_I'm not that drunk John. Bring me more and maybe. -SH_

_It's hardly a thrilling tale. -SH_

**Damn, you caught me**

_You should though. -SH_

_Bring me more. -SH_

**What? Bring you more alcohol?**

**I don't think that's a very good idea**

_ Obviously. -SH_

** Alright, alright.**

_Are you coming or not? -SH_

_Actually, no. Don't. -SH_

** Are you alright?**

_ Fine John, perfectly fine. -SH_

** I can come if you want. I can be there in 5 minutes.**

_Come. Don't come. Choose which you prefer. –SH_

**Give me 5 minutes and I'll be right there**

_ ... -SH_

_Fine. My window will be open. -SH_


	8. Chapter 8

I open my window and stand back. "John, I kindly advise you to never take work in the government. You are utter shite at stealth."

"You could have at least warned me about the loose branch, really."

"Ah, wouldn't be as much fun now would it."

"Has anyone ever told you how big of a git you are?"

"As a matter of fact, yes." I walk to my desk, pulling out my chair and planting myself down. Bottle of Carling in hand. "Oh, where ever are my manners. Do sit John. You are a guest in this /lovely/ home."

"I can actually _feel_ the sarcasm, Sherlock.

"Not as much as an idiot as you seem John." I smirk before I slide the bottle between my lips, draining the last drops. "Ugh, wonderful."

"How much of that stuff have you drank, mate? Earlier it was 'awful'."

My head feels light and I slump back slightly. Eyes on John.

Always John.

"This, if I remember correctly, would have been the fifth one."

"Nice. You gonna share or am I going to have to steal it from you?"

I hiccup.

"Go ahead, take your pick. I don't want anymore."

"What, the Great Sherlock Holmes can't handle a little beer? Pitiful, honestly."

I scoff, frown forming.

"Please, John. Why do I need the alcohol when you are here now?"

"It's good to know that I don't bore you to death, you know, with me being an idiot and all."

"Oh, everybody is an idiot. You are just slightly less so." I smile, a little lopsided.

It's just the alcohol. Nothing more.

"I can't tell if you're complimenting me or if you're too hammered to care. I'll pretend it's the former."

"Mmm.." My eyelids fall, heavy and I heave myself to my bed. "Why are you here John?"

"Because we're friends, remember? And I needed a break from studying. I'd much rather be here with you."

I growl, suddenly angry. "But _why_ John, _why_ are we friends!" I throw my pillow to the wall, "I don't understand why you are still here!"

"Because you get bored and I get lonely. We're not a bad pair, if

I do say so myself."

"You look exhausted. Are you not sleeping well?"

I laugh harshly. "Please, like you can't get other _friends_."

"I don't sleep John. A few hours a week at most."

"Maybe I don't want any other friends, Sherlock. I like being here, with you, and if I didn't I would leave."

"You're not thinking clearly, and you _definitely_ need to get more sleep. 8 hours a day, at most."

"I'm hardly suitable to be a friend, let alone being an only friend."

"Don't baby me John. I'm perfectly fine."

"You want me to leave and we never talk again? Because I don't want that. I like you quite a bit actually, so stop thinking I don't want to be your friend, you daft prat."

"And stop pouting, it's not attractive."

"I- no. I don't want you to leave."

I roll to my back and cover my eyes. "I just don't understand how you can still be here. In my room. With me drunk."

I throw a pillow at John. "And I am _not_ pouting."

"Hey now, no need to throw things, you big baby. You asked me to come, I came. I want you to be able to trust me. You do trust me, don't you?"

I nod slowly. "Yes... I do trust you John. It's I that I don't trust."

"Why? I trust you."

"And that's what I don't get John." I lean on my elbows and stare into his eyes, mine bleary. "Why, do you trust me...?"

"I don't know why, I just do. It-... I shouldn't because you're mad and reckless and a bit intimidating, but I _do_. You're brilliant. I feel at ease with you. You make me feel not as lonely as I did before. I just _do_, Sherlock."

I continue to stare before my shut my eyes, John's face splayed with dim light, etched into my mind. "I'm tired John," I whisper as I lower myself back, "but, don't go. Please, not yet..."

"I'm not leaving; tell me what you need from me."

"Just be here. Please."

I roll over and bury my face into the remaining pillow, sighing softly. John's movements lulling me to sleep.

/

I wake up to John's jacket as my blanket.


	9. Chapter 9

_**AN:I'm the worse at updates. *slams head on desk* **_

* * *

It has been three days since the Incident.

Alcohol is a evil, evil substance.

/

**Sherlock, are you okay? It's been a while.**

**Sherlock?**

**Listen you bloody wanker, I will text your brother if you don't answer me**

**Are you okay, please answer**

**I don't even know why I'm bothering right now since YOU ARE SUCH A CHILD**

**And I want my jacket back, it's cold.**

**Sherlock?!**

/

"You know, you can't avoid him forever Sherlock. He is your tutor, and if father finds out that isn't teaching you anything he will find a new one for you."

"Piss off Mycroft."

/

There is in itch in the back of my mind.

Go away.

John doesn't know. He can't know.

/

He will hate me.

/

Everyone does. Why should this be different.

/

**Sherlock, it's been almost a week**

**Answer me please**

**I'm sorry okay, I don't know for what but I am**

**Please Sherlock**

**SHERLOCK**

/

An insistent knocking travels up the stairs as I walk out the bathroom.

"Answer the sodding door!"

I freeze, water dripping on the carpet.

John.

That's John at the door.

/

I rush down the stairs, clothes forgotten.

I spot Mycroft ahead of me.

"Don't you _dare_ you fat bastard!"

He lifts an eyebrow as he turns the handle to the front door with an angry John Watson behind it.

/

John's eyes are like thunder.

A blue ocean raging war.

I step back as he practically throws himself inside, slamming the door as he crosses the threshold.

/

I can see him holding back.

Thank a deity I don't believe in for small miracles. Finally Mycroft is of use.

John nods stiffly at Mycroft with a tense, "Hello".

"Evening , now if you will excuse me, I have business in London that needs to be dealt with."

I hiss, "_Mycroft_."

"Goodbye Mycroft," with a jerk of his head. John's tone is final. Cold.

And hurt.

/

I'm halfway up the staircase by the time John's angry is focused entirely on me.

So close.

"Oi! You fucking wanker, I'm here for a reason you know."

"Oh, do delight me John. What reason would that be? Too cold out there for you, so you decide to get your jacket back, is that it?"

Obviously it's not. But one can dream.

"Don't be a smart arse Sherlock. Why have you been ignoring me?!"

I turn around to stare at the man steps below. "If there is a reason I am ignoring you John, why would I tell you now."

He opens his mouth but shuts it after I continue to stare down.

"You utter arse. I'm your friend Sherlock, you can't just... ignore me for no reason!"

"I don't have friends!" I shout, anger flaring in my chest. John's face twists, mouth opening again but I continue on, "Never have John, and never will! Can't you see that!?"

John's voice is steel. Warm steel.

"Sherlock," voice low, thick, "I am your friend."

"I don't need your pity John." I snap.

"No, you listen to me. Sherlock, you mad man, you are my best friend." He chuckles softly, "God help me, but you are."

His eyes are calm, a gentle rolling of blue waves searching my face. For an understanding.

I clutch my towel tighter around my hips as I numbly nod, half dried curls sticking to my forehead.

Yes, John, you are my friend.

/


End file.
